The Art of Artifice
by sweetness328
Summary: Elizabeth plans to seduce Jack, but not without making him sweat a bit first.  - Rated 'M' for Sparrabeth smut -
1. Chapter 1

**This story contains a fair amount of smut, so if that's not what you're looking for, please don't read! Thanks to my beta Michelle (Princess of the Pearl) and my husband Anthony for reading it over and always supporting me. :)**

**Disclaimer: All things Pirates of the Caribbean belong to Disney...I own nothing.**

**A/N: The first few chapters are very short, but they do get longer as the story progresses. I needed to break it up in certain spots so that each section would make sense.**

Elizabeth Swann wrapped her arms around her knees, a tiny smile on her face as she beheld the illustrious Captain Jack Sparrow at the helm, a portrait of a majestic storybook hero framed against a panorama of blue sky. She tugged the brim of her hat down to shield her eyes from the worst of the sun's glare, thoroughly entranced. She enjoyed observing Jack when he was completely unaware of her scrutiny, loved the way his dark brows drew together as he consulted his compass, the manner in which his long fingers curled possessively around the spokes of the Pearl's wheel. The same strong, brown fingers that had become a permanent source of distraction for her for the past week and a half.

More and more, Elizabeth found herself envisioning what those hands could do to bring her pleasure, what they might feel like on her body in the dark confines of his cabin.

Quite simply, Elizabeth wanted Jack.

She wasn't entirely sure when the attraction she'd reluctantly acknowledged but hidden away had transformed into unequivocal infatuation, couldn't comprehend how she'd allowed her feelings to reach this infuriating peak. The moments when her desire threatened to overwhelm her, curiously enough, were moments such as this, when she could sit in some quiet corner, unnoticed, and watch Jack execute the most mundane tasks. Somehow, though, that seemed perfectly logical. It wasn't just Captain Sparrow she loved, the swaggering, overconfident pirate she'd fantasized about as a girl; it was Jack himself, the man behind all the self-assured cockiness and bravado.

Elizabeth had spurned his advances in the past, and Jack's overabundance of both male pride and ego had clearly conspired to protect him against further humiliation. Indeed, over the past few months, he seemed to have grown accustomed to the idea that they could be allies, cohorts, shipmates, but never lovers. The attraction remained, however; she could feel it in the sidelong glances he gave her, his gaze lingering a little longer than necessary. All it would take was a gentle nudge, a snippet of encouragement on her part...

But Elizabeth had learned a thing or two from Jack, lessons in pirating, as it were. Trusting him with her life was one thing, but trusting Jack and his bottomless bag of tricks with anything else was an entirely different matter. And though he'd risked his neck for her on more than one occasion, she'd also been the unwitting victim of Jack's own special brand of fourberie more times than she cared to count.

No, Elizabeth was determined to have a bit of fun with this one. It wasn't often that she had the opportunity to match wits with Jack, and this would most likely prove to be the ultimate showdown.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack absently rubbed the base of his neck as he examined the map spread out on his desk. The archipelago depicted in the lower right-hand corner seemed to swim before his bleary eyes until he was no longer sure if the islands were actual markings or merely drops of rum from the nearly empty bottle that sat conveniently close to his left hand. Sighing, he opened his compass and frowned at the erratically spinning needle before closing it with a frustrated snap. A cacophony of sharp knocks shattered the silence like musket fire, and Jack grunted in response. The latch clicked, and Elizabeth's honey-blonde head peered around the edge of the door.

"Mind if I come inside? The wind's picking up a bit, and I'm feeling rather chilly." Her beguiling smile and fairly immodest thin, silk shirt were wasted on Jack, who was once again studying the map.

"Of course not, love," he replied distractedly.

Elizabeth pouted briefly, then turned her attention to the various cupboards lining the back wall of the cabin. "Have you got any more rum?"

Still absorbed in navigational calculations, Jack waved his hand vaguely in the direction of one of the cabinets. "Somewhere in there." He traced an invisible line on the map with his fingertip, frowning in concentration. As he reached for his divider caliper, a movement caught his eye. Elizabeth, bottle of rum in hand, was rummaging through another cabinet, presumably for a glass. Jack studied her back for a moment, slightly bemused. He wasn't sure what had provoked this new attitude of hers, but she'd been acting a bit unusual for the past few days, hovering around him at the oddest moments, slinking around like some sort of crafty feline. Despite his vast experience with the fairer sex, women were still mysterious creatures to Jack, and he assumed that whatever was causing this bizarre behavior would right itself, in all likelihood without his assistance.

Shaking his head, Jack placed the divider on the map, meticulously gauging the distance to his intended destination. As he scratched out a notation on the parchment, he gradually became aware that Elizabeth was speaking to him again.

"Jack?"

"Mmm?" He dipped his quill in the inkwell and began writing again. _If all goes well, and the weather remains fair..._ Without warning, his overworked brain registered a request including the words "you" and "rub," and Jack's hand stilled abruptly. He blinked, the quill sliding from his limp fingers as he raised his eyes to meet Elizabeth's. "You want me to..." He swallowed and licked his lips, which suddenly felt dry. "What did you say?"

Elizabeth had situated herself in a chair next to his desk, looking quite comfortable. He assumed she hadn't been able to locate a tumbler, for she was drinking straight from the bottle, her shirt sliding and clinging in a number of significant places as she tilted her head back..._God, what was she wearing?_ The material was silk, if he wasn't mistaken, cut so low in front that Jack was having a devil of a time focusing solely on her face. Undoubtedly she'd felt cold wearing such a flimsy garment out on deck, as was evident by the outline of her nipples through the diaphanous fabric. Jack swallowed again and fumbled for his own bottle of rum.

"...and that one particular trunk was so _heavy._ Pintel and Raghetti offered to carry it, but of course, you're well aware of that damnable stubborn streak of mine, Jack..."

Jack nodded dumbly, taking a swig of rum.

"...so I insisted I would be able to move it on my own, and..." Elizabeth paused for breath, closing her eyes and languidly rolling her neck from side to side. "I suppose that's what I get for being so hardheaded, but..." She sighed, eyes still closed. "Would you mind terribly, Jack? If you would rub my neck and shoulders just for a bit, I would be forever in your debt."

Her last words were spoken lightly, of course, an oft-used collocation simply meant to convey how much she would appreciate the favor she was begging, but Jack's mind was already conjuring up deliciously sinful images of the various methods Elizabeth could employ to repay that debt. He drained the last of his rum and stood, dispelling the salacious thoughts crowding his brain. Elizabeth had no intention of sharing his bed; she'd made that plain to him long ago, and it wouldn't do for him to torment himself with distinct mental pictures of circumstances that would never come to pass. He'd endured enough sleepless nights in this lifetime.

As Jack moved to stand behind her, a victorious smile curled Elizabeth's lips. She'd felt rather than saw his reaction, the sudden shift in his mood. He hadn't uttered a single syllable since he'd finally looked at her, and for a man who usually had a multitude of quips at the ready for any situation, this atypical silence spoke volumes. Elizabeth could feel the heat and tension radiating from his body as he hovered over her, and she felt a heady rush of power that she could elicit such a reaction from Jack.

Jack lifted an unsteady hand to brush Elizabeth's tawny tresses over her shoulder. He stared down at the nape of her neck, transfixed by the sight of her golden skin. When Elizabeth spoke again, he jumped slightly, glad that she couldn't see him from her position. "What are you waiting for?"

And still Jack hesitated, realizing that as soon as he felt her skin under his fingertips, he would be ruined, that once would never be enough. He took the time to crack every knuckle, flexing his fingers and wiggling them in the air above Elizabeth's head, yet he couldn't bring himself to touch her. Elizabeth finally cleared her throat, sounding somewhat impatient.

"Where exactly does it hurt?" Jack asked, hating the tremor he heard in his voice.

"Everywhere," Elizabeth breathed, and Jack closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the sexual undertone he most certainly must have imagined he heard.

As he laid tentative hands on her shoulders and began kneading the flesh there, Elizabeth let out a completely involuntary groan, feeling Jack freeze momentarily before resuming his ministrations. Elizabeth silently admonished herself, knowing this game would never go as far as she'd planned if she allowed herself to be so easily seduced by his touch.

Jack tried to ignore the rush of heat that swept his body when Elizabeth moaned, but it was too daunting a task. He briefly considered suggesting she ask someone else to massage her aching back, but he couldn't bear the thought of any other man touching her so intimately, never mind the fact that he didn't implicitly trust every member of his crew. No, he would have to bear this on his own, torturous as it was.

"Just a bit lower, please."

Jack complied, and as he pressed his thumbs into her shoulder blades, his fingertips accidentally brushed the sides of her breasts, and he felt as though he'd been burned. _Good Lord, how much of this could he take?_ He was only a man, after all, and he certainly hadn't done anything…well, he hadn't done _much _to deserve this kind of cruelty.

"Harder," Elizabeth rasped, and Jack lowered his head in despair, fighting desperately to banish the image of her writhing underneath him, issuing that same command as he drove deeper into her.

A few agonizing minutes later, Elizabeth stretched luxuriously, awarding Jack with a mouthwatering, albeit brief, view of her breasts as her shirt slipped downward. As he fought to tear his eyes away, she stood and faced him, her lips tantalizingly close.

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered.

Jack cleared his throat, unnerved by both her proximity and his traitorous body's reaction to her nearness. "How does it feel now?"

"Much better." She leaned closer, and for a moment Jack swore she was going to kiss him, his hands automatically coming up to circle her waist, but she merely brushed his cheek with her lips. "Good night," she whispered, flitting to the door and disappearing like a wraith.

Jack collapsed into her chair and groaned. One hand groped about for the rum bottle, until he realized that Elizabeth had taken it with her, along with his dignity. He sighed. "Why is the rum always gone?"


	3. Chapter 3

Jack squinted down at his compass and titled the wheel a few inches to port. The squall that had blown up the previous evening hadn't put them too far off course, and he was satisfied with the _Pearl's _progress thus far.

"May I?" The throaty voice came from behind him, warm breath brushing his ear, and Jack whirled round to find Elizabeth standing there, one eyebrow raised inquiringly.

"Certainly," Jack replied automatically, realizing belatedly that he wasn't sure what it was he was acquiescing to.

Elizabeth slid in front of him, delicately resting her hands upon the wheel. "Show me."

Flipping open his compass, Jack held it level so Elizabeth could see their heading. "I've just made a few minor adjustments, so there's really no need to – "

"Please, Jack? Just for a moment…you can guide me." She reached behind her then and grasped Jack's hands, placing them on top of her own, twining her fingers with his. "I want to _feel _her move under my command, under my hands."

Elizabeth's eyes had closed, and she didn't see Jack's head draw back sharply, didn't see his eyes darken with suspicion as he studied her face. _What in bloody hell… _Elizabeth was naive in some ways, to be sure, but she was no innocent young miss, either. There was something a bit too theatrical about her mannerisms, the wanton tone in her voice.

Elizabeth, sensing his hesitation, opened her eyes, the amber orbs wide and angelic, and Jack wavered. Perhaps she didn't realize how she was affecting him after all. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny the sense of relief he felt when Gibbs called for his assistance with some minor squabble among a few of the crewmembers. Putting some distance between himself and Elizabeth was exactly what he needed.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack grimaced as he appraised his reflection in the tiny mirror propped against the candelabra. He looked like he hadn't slept in eons. After dabbing a bit more kohl around his eyes, he wiped his fingers on a cloth and reclined in his chair. Perhaps a nap was in order, he thought as his eyes drifted closed, a short respite from the rest of the world…

The cabin door flew open with an alarming crash. Jack's eyes opened wide, and he jerked upright, nearly toppling from the chair. He was reaching for his pistol when he realized the intruder was none other than Elizabeth. Her eyes were screwed shut, face contorted, and she was jerking about in something akin to Saint Vitus' dance.

Jack was instantly at her side, trying to subdue her and discern the reason for this unsettling fit. "Calm down, love, it's all right," he soothed, finally managing to catch hold of her wrists. He guided her to the chair he'd only recently vacated and eased her into it, keeping a firm hold on her. "Now, then, tell me what's wrong."

Elizabeth seemed to have regained her composure somewhat, and she stretched an arm around to rub at a spot near the small of her back. "Something stung me!" she cried plaintively.

Jack had to fight the impulse to roll his eyes. He'd been acquainted with many women who were prone to histrionics, but this was ridiculous. "Let me see," he urged, gently brushing her hand aside and lifting the hem of her shirt.

"Here." Elizabeth rose to her feet in one fluid motion and, crossing her arms, began tugging her shirt over her head.

Jack took a quick step back, stumbling and slamming his elbow painfully against the wall. His eyes were huge as he stared at her, rubbing his sore arm. "Elizabeth –" he began hoarsely.

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I won't turn around."

_Don't_ _worry? _They were alone in his cabin, she was half naked, and _she _was telling _him _not to worry?If the situation were any more absurd, he might have been tempted to laugh. As it was, he was severely tempted to do a half dozen other things that the fair Miss Swann would undoubtedly object to.

"Do you see it?" Elizabeth asked, startling him.

Jack forced himself to move toward her, unconsciously clasping his hands behind his back. He knelt behind her, head bent as he examined her skin. There was a small, raised mark to the right of her spine that looked to be nothing more than a day-old mosquito bite. Jack's eyebrows lifted. This tiny bump was the cause of her paroxysm? If she hadn't specifically told him where to look, he might have missed it. "I see it."

As Jack raised his head, his gaze fell upon Elizabeth's image in the mirror he'd left on the table. From his vantage point, he had an unobstructed view of her breasts, and a glorious view it was. His mouth went dry, and he had to place both palms flat on the floor to steady himself. They were exquisite, and he'd seen enough in his day to make a fair judgment. Smaller than he'd imagined, but no less perfect; smooth ivory skin graced with delicate roseate nipples. Jack shook his head miserably, wondering how he would ever sleep again with that image seared into his brain.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked worriedly.

"Nothing to fret over, love," Jack reassured her. "I may have a balm that will alleviate some of the irritation."

"Oh, good," Elizabeth breathed. "Would you mind putting it on for me, Jack? It's such a dreadful _itch._"

Jack's head snapped up, eyes narrowed. There was that peculiar inflection again, that provocative tone that from any other woman would have foreshadowed seduction. He stood slowly, his gaze riveted to the mirror.

"Please, Jack. I simply can't _bear _it."

As Elizabeth whispered her plea, Jack straightened to his full height, staring at her reflection. Her chin was angled toward the ceiling, eyes half closed, and she…was she _smiling? _Oh, yes, she was smiling, a grin of pure satisfaction that surely came with the knowledge that she had put one over on the indomitable Jack Sparrow. True, she had once used those same feminine wiles to lure him to his death, but then, at least, the end had justified the means. Now, it seemed, there was no reason other than to see how far she could goad him, how much she could bewitch him with her charms until he was left salivating like some lovesick whelp.

He had the ideal tactic with which to test his hypothesis literally at his fingertips. Not averting his gaze from the mirror, Jack stretched his left hand toward a drawer in his desk. His fingers passed over the ointment he had spoken of and came to rest on a small jug of olive oil he used to fuel his lamps. As he began to massage the oil into her skin, Elizabeth's smile deepened to one of unmistakable pleasure.

"How's that?" Jack asked.

"It feels much better now," Elizabeth sighed.

So, it was true; she was toying with him. Jack cleared his throat, the wheels in his mind rapidly turning as he tried to surmise the best way to punish Elizabeth for her little scheme. She obviously hadn't noticed the mirror, didn't realize that he'd caught on to her plot. Well, best to fight fire with fire, he always thought.

"Are your shoulders still sore?" Jack queried solicitously, sliding his hands up toward her neck.

"Ahhh," Elizabeth groaned before she could stop herself. "Ah…yes, I'm fine now," she replied, tearing herself away from those extraordinary hands and hastily pulling her shirt on. "Thank you," she tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the door.

In three quick strides, Jack was suddenly in front of her, latching the door and leaning against it with a feral grin. "Where do you think you're going?"

Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. "I need some air."

Jack flung one of his arms wide, his gaze sweeping the room before coming to rest upon her face once more. "Not enough air in here for you, darling?"

"Well, I – " Elizabeth paused, cocking her head to one side. Jack was watching her intently, an odd expression on his face. Frowning, Elizabeth shook her head and attempted to brush past him. "I'll see you in a bit for dinner."

"Oh, no, no, no," Jack tsked, propping an arm against the door to prevent her escape. "You didn't think you were going to leave that easily, did you?"

"What – what do you mean?" Elizabeth stammered.

"I think you know what I mean," Jack said quietly, his eyes never leaving her face.

Elizabeth swallowed, inwardly cursing herself for her nervousness. "I can assure you, I don't," she lied.

"Oh?" Jack quirked an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me all the teasing and taunting you've been doing in the past couple of days was purely accidental?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Teasing and – " She forced what she hoped was a lighthearted laugh. "Jack, you must be mad."

"Mad?" Jack repeated, dark eyes glittering as he stepped toward her. He tipped his head to one side, considering. "Perhaps. But if I am, it's entirely your fault for treating me like some sort of lovelorn chattel."

Elizabeth's eyes darted from side to side, searching for a way to outmaneuver him. For all that she had consciously tried to bring this man to his knees, she had never once stopped to consider what he would do if he ever discovered her ruse. "I didn't mean to – " she began feebly.

"Of course you did," Jack interrupted smoothly. "The cat's out of the bag, as it were." He moved closer still, jerking his head in the direction of the desk. "Unfortunately for you, you didn't notice the mirror I left there." He smiled slowly, a truly wicked smile that both frightened and fascinated her. "I saw your reflection, Lizzie." Elizabeth blushed, and Jack's grin became even more fiendish, if that were possible. "Oh, yes, I saw _everything,_" he breathed. "And," he concluded, his black eyes raking her from head to toe, "I'm happy to say I was struck neither blind nor dead by my transgression."

Elizabeth licked her lips nervously. "Well," she began, then stopped.

"Well?" Jack echoed sharply, the word ricocheting back at her like a bullet. "Don't tell me you weren't aware of how your behavior was affecting me. I've neither the patience nor the inclination to indulge dishonesty."

Elizabeth sucked in a breath, her temper flaring. "I don't believe a _pirate _is in any position tosermonize about dishonesty."

Jack's eyes flashed dangerously. "And are you not a pirate as well, darling? I believe you've spent a considerable amount of time trying to prove yourself worthy of that title."

Elizabeth raised her chin stubbornly. "Of course I am, but I certainly don't find gratification in deceiving others."

"Don't you?" Jack crossed his arms, his penetrating gaze making her distinctly uncomfortable. "Seems to me that's all you've been doing of late."

"Jack, I – " Elizabeth's cheeks grew red as she recognized the truth in his words. "I'm sorry."

Jack was amused. "My, my, was that an apology?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully with his forefinger. "You know, I seem to recall a young lady bearing an uncanny resemblance to you chaining me to this very ship as a remarkably large and horrific sea beast was bearing down upon it." He raised his palms heavenward, eyebrows arched inquisitively. "Sound familiar?" Without waiting for an answer, he scratched his head and frowned in mock concentration. "Now, if memory serves – and forgive me if I can't call to mind the exact verbiage, as a sense of impending doom can significantly hinder one's ability to recollect such trivial things – but I believe this feisty young woman proclaimed – rather fiercely, I might add - '_I'm not sorry._'"

Jack chuckled darkly. "I believe in this instance, you merely regret getting caught." He crossed the remaining distance between them, trapping Elizabeth against the wall. "And once the cat has caught the mouse, what then?"


	5. Chapter 5

Elizabeth stared up at him, her heart pounding wildly. There was ire evident in those obsidian eyes, naturally, but desire as well. His was a face capable of a thousand different expressions, from fury to elation, and everything in between; the arms that were now folded tightly across his chest adept at conveying a myriad of emotions in a blur of frenetic movement. One corner of Jack's mouth was pulled back in a sneer, black eyes smoldering, yet despite his surly countenance, at that particular moment, Elizabeth realized she had never found him more breathtakingly handsome. Her lips parted, and instead of the caustic retort she'd formerly imagined flinging at him, she found herself murmuring, "What, indeed?"

Jack's head tilted back almost imperceptibly and he peered down his nose at her, lips pursed as if he were trying to formulate a suitable response. "Hmmm," he hummed finally, one hand curving round her waist, squeezing gently, "Let's see." Suddenly both his hands were on her shoulders, and he crushed her against his chest in one rapid motion. "I could give you what you so obviously want."

Jack angled his head so his lips were a hairsbreadth from her own, and Elizabeth's eyelids fluttered closed of their own volition. She could feel his warm breath on her face, he was so close…

"Or…" Jack's hands skimmed her thighs, and Elizabeth trembled. "I could say good night." He released her so swiftly, her skull thumped painfully against the wall.

Elizabeth reached for him, but he was already turning away. "Jack," she pleaded weakly. "Please – "

Jack paused, glancing at her over his shoulder. "Is that it, then?"

Elizabeth frowned. "What?"

"Would you beg me for it?" Jack pivoted on one foot so he was facing her again, his expression inscrutable.

"Would I…" Elizabeth tried to form the words through numb lips. "Would I beg you for what?"

Jack smiled then, a nasty smile that gleamed gold and epitomized sheer debauchery. "Anything," he said in a low voice, his long, graceful fingers unfastening the buttons on his shirt, his movements maddeningly slow. "Everything."

He was intentionally tormenting her, Elizabeth knew, yet she stood spellbound, as one by one, the buttons popped open, revealing a glimpse of smooth, tanned chest, inch by delectable inch.

The shirt slid from Jack's shoulders, dangling momentarily from his fingertips before drifting to the floor. He regarded Elizabeth thoughtfully, the candlelight accentuating the lean muscle in his arms and torso. She stared back, her clenched fists and flushed cheeks the only indication that she was even the least bit flustered. Jack extended an arm behind him and swiped a bottle of rum from the table, tilting his head back and taking a couple of leisurely swallows.

Elizabeth watched, still hypnotized by the sight of his bare chest, his adam's apple bobbing as he drank. The bottle slipped from his lips with a soft pop, and Jack met her eyes again, one eyebrow lifted inquiringly. "Thirsty?" he asked, waving the rum in her direction. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and he moved toward her, his steps slow and deliberate.

As Jack stopped in front of her, Elizabeth dug her nails into the wall to keep from running her fingers over that golden skin. He silently held the bottle out to her, and she gulped greedily, grateful to have something to do other than ogle him shamelessly. As she handed it back to him, she caught a flash of something in his eyes, something that made her stomach tighten, her nerves stretched taut.

Jack dangled the rum above his head. "Only a few mouthfuls left," he observed. "Want it?" As he tipped the bottle toward her, his other hand shot up and smacked the wide base, soaking Elizabeth's neck and shirtfront.

She gasped, the circumstances forgotten as she stared down at the ruined fabric. "Look what you've done!" she screeched, pinching the sodden material between two fingers and holding it away from her body.

Jack's lips twitched. "I'll steal you another one."

Elizabeth exhaled noisily. "That's not the point."

"Then what _is _the point?" Jack demanded impatiently.

Elizabeth ignored him, peering at the fabric. "Perhaps it can be saved – "

Jack's strong hands gripped the neckline of her shirt, the sound of tearing silk jarring in the relative silence of the cabin. "It can't."

Elizabeth gaped, openmouthed, first at Jack, his full lips twisted in a devilish smirk, then at the garment now hanging limply from her shoulders, split wide open from throat to navel. "I cannot believe you did that."

Jack met her gaze steadily. "Would you believe I have no other shirt to offer you to preserve your…_modesty_?" he asked, still smirking.

Elizabeth released a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "I believe it."

Jack touched a strand of her hair, twining the silky strands around a ring-adorned finger. "I don't hear you begging, love."

Elizabeth stiffened. Here was a moment of truth, if ever there was one. Could she cast aside her pride and beseech him to give her what she so desperately craved? He was utterly contemptible for demanding such a penance, but then, she wasn't particularly virtuous herself, baiting him the way she had, mercilessly tempting him to act on the carnal desires he perpetually tried to conceal. She lowered her head in shame, realizing that it must have taken him a great deal of effort to quell the urge to succumb to her provocation, to take indecent advantage of a woman he believed to be so chaste and pure. Elizabeth had always firmly believed that Jack was a good man; that he had survived the rigorous assault she'd inflicted upon his self-constraint only served to further validate that fact. Still, to actually have to _plead _for his touch was…

Jack's hand glided down her neck, one calloused fingertip lightly tracing her collarbone before drifting downward in a tantalizing fashion.

…suddenly within the realm of possibility.

"Please, Jack," she found herself whispering.

His hand stopped just above her breast. "Please what?"

"Please…touch me."

Jack leaned close, his lips brushing her earlobe. "Where?"

A delightful shudder shook her body. "Everywhere."

Jack barely suppressed a shudder of his own when she spoke. How many nights had his subconscious been plagued with fitful dreams, all too vivid, wherein Elizabeth came to him, inviting him to explore her body as she was doing now? He fought the impulse to pinch himself. That would require removing at least one of his hands from her deliciously soft skin, and hallucination or not, he was unwilling to relinquish his hold on her.

As he pushed the torn shirt from her shoulders, an annoying little voice in his head chastised him for giving in too easily, insisting that he ought to teach Elizabeth a lesson for making a fool out of him. Jack reached for the waistband of her silk pants, urgently sliding them over her hips, impatient to have her naked before him. The voice persisted, telling him he was every bit the fool she'd taken him for, that he should walk away _now, _but as the last of her clothing fell to the floor and Jack drank in the sight of her nude body, his for the taking, the voice was finally silent.

Elizabeth had once sent him to his death, a betrayal he did not take lightly, and yet he'd balked at the opportunity to exact his revenge on her even then. He certainly wasn't about to deny himself any of the pleasures he'd been fantasizing about since that long-ago night on their island, when he'd first noticed, even with blurred vision and a brain half-pickled with rum, how achingly beautiful she was. Revenge, he decided as he threaded his fingers through her hair and brought his mouth down on hers, was overrated.


	6. Chapter 6

As Jack's mouth met hers feverishly, Elizabeth swayed dizzily, grasping his waist for support. She'd half expected him to shun her, to condemn her to a lonely, frustrating night of imagining what might have been, a concept he was probably well-acquainted with by now. She should have known better. Jack was unpredictable, of course, and at times volatile, but she would never again make the mistake of underestimating him. Jack's lips were moving ardently over her own, and Elizabeth found herself responding with a fire she hadn't even known existed inside her. She'd been kissed before, of course, but never like this. She felt as though she were drowning, sinking into a peaceful oblivion where all that existed were Jack's lips and hands, bringing her to a fever pitch astonishingly quickly.

He ran his hands over the curve of her bottom, suddenly lifting her off her feet. Elizabeth wrapped her legs around his waist as he stumbled blindly across the room, never breaking their kiss. Jack's boot struck something solid, and then they were spilling across the desk, charts and navigational instruments landing in a heap on the floor as his lips began devouring her neck, burning a path toward the hollow in her throat.

Elizabeth could hardly catch her breath, but she wasn't about to complain. Jack's right hand was caressing her breast, expertly stroking and kneading, and she moaned as his thumb grazed her nipple. Her slender fingers crept toward Jack's waist, tugging on his breeches.

Jack pulled back, dark eyes dancing with amusement. "Impatient, aren't we?"

Sheer desire won out over her annoyance at his remark. "Yes," she replied through gritted teeth.

She stared up at him, silently imploring him to continue, but Jack was studying her face, his expression suddenly solemn. "Elizabeth…I don't think I have it in me to ever deny you anything."

Elizabeth unconsciously touched her swollen lips with her fingertip, gazing up at him in wonder. This was as open a declaration of feelings as Jack Sparrow would ever allow, she realized, and though his eyes were now alight with lust, there was another unidentifiable emotion there as well, one she imagined Jack was hesitant to reflect upon too deeply. But Elizabeth appreciated the sentiment behind his words, and he was here with her now, and that was enough for her.

Jack held out his hand. "Come here, love."

Elizabeth obeyed, and he pulled her to her feet, guiding her toward the bed. He kissed her again, gently this time. "Lie down," he said softly.

Elizabeth stretched out on the bed, and Jack removed his boots and breeches, easing his body down next to hers. His hand traveled over her stomach, lazily tracing indistinct patterns on her skin, and she shivered.

"Nervous?" Jack breathed close to her ear.

Elizabeth sighed, not bothering to hide her irritation this time. "I'm not exactly inexperienced, Jack."

Jack chuckled quietly. "My dear Lizzie," he murmured, his hand sliding between her thighs, nudging them apart, "I can absolutely guarantee you that whatever you've experienced in the past will pale in comparison to what you're about to experience now."

Elizabeth frowned. _Of all the arrogant, conceited… _She opened her mouth to protest, but Jack was already shifting toward the lower half of her body, his hands on her knees.

"After all," he said, lowering his head and giving her a saucy grin, "I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow."

The indignant retort Elizabeth had been about to make was completely forgotten the moment Jack's tongue swept across her sex. She gasped, her back arching as she gripped the bed sheet convulsively. The notion that Jack's egotistical prediction had turned out to be completely irrefutable drifted hazily through her mind, loath as she was to admit it. Elizabeth squirmed, the sensation so exquisite it was almost unbearable, and Jack's hands gripped her thighs, pulling her closer.

"Jack," she moaned, "I can't…I can't take it."

Jack paused, glancing up at her. "Just relax, love. You're trying too hard to fight it."

He pressed a light kiss to her inner thigh, and Elizabeth sighed, willing her tightly wound muscles to slacken. She closed her eyes, her breathing quickening as Jack continued to lick and kiss and tease. When he suddenly groaned against her, a tremor shook her entire body, and a deluge of pure euphoria engulfed her.

Lightheaded and panting, Elizabeth opened her eyes to find Jack propped up on one elbow, watching her, a smirk on his handsome face. "Well?"

Elizabeth licked her lips. "I – " She shook her head.

Jack sat up, looking smug. "I hate to say I told you so, but…well, I told you so." Elizabeth made a halfhearted attempt to slap him, but Jack caught her wrist easily. "Now, that's not very nice. Is that how you thank me for working so tirelessly to _please _you?"

Elizabeth had to smile. "Thank you, Jack."

"Much better." Jack grinned slyly as he carefully swung one leg over her, his knees coming to rest on either side of her hips. He ground against her lightly, and Elizabeth jumped, breath hitching.

Jack was extremely aroused, hard and ready, but now he paused, the grin fading from his face as he peered at her curiously. He cleared his throat. "You _are _experienced in…_this_…aren't you?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I'm still feeling a little…sensitive, that's all."

Jack's grin returned. "Not to worry, love. You'll forget all about that in a moment, I promise." He slid inside her slowly, closing his eyes the instant he felt how unbelievably wet she was, noting with immense satisfaction that he'd brought her to that point. He drew back a bit, then hesitated, scrutinizing Elizabeth's face. "Let me know if…I don't want to hurt you."

Elizabeth stared up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, touching his hand briefly. "You're not going to hurt me."

Jack entered her once more, hissing as Elizabeth shifted her hips, drawing him deeper inside her. He bit his lip as she moved with him, her moist heat enveloping him and threatening to wreak havoc upon his self-control. With a supreme effort, he reigned in his desire, opening his eyes to search her face for any indication of pain.

"Jack," she breathed, her arms snaking around his waist, her sharp fingernails raking across his back. "God."

Jack grinned. If Elizabeth was equating him with any kind of divine being, she must certainly be enjoying herself just fine. He began to move a bit faster, falling into a rhythm that seemed to be in tune with the rapid beating of his heart. "Harder?" he asked, remembering her request the previous evening, unable to resist teasing her.

Elizabeth squinted up at him, eyes glazed, cheeks flushed. One corner of her mouth slowly curved upward, and she yanked him toward her with such force, Jack let out a strangled cry. "Harder," she purred in his ear.

Jack leaned over her, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "More than happy to oblige, love." He drove into her, Elizabeth's head tilting back, her mouth dropping open in a soundless cry. Jack's pace quickened, his arms trembling with the effort of holding himself above her, eyes squeezed shut as he strained for control, wanting to prolong this as long as possible.

Elizabeth thrashed beneath him, and as he watched her lovely face, contorted with pleasure, Jack knew he could hold out no longer. With one last powerful thrust, he was moaning his release, the force of his orgasm leaving him shaken. "Christ," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm.

Elizabeth's eyes were closed, a blissful smile upon her lips. Jack crawled up toward the pillows and settled next to her. "Was it worth it?"

Elizabeth didn't stir. "I don't know what you mean."

"This." Jack touched her hip lightly, his fingers creeping toward the juncture of her thighs. Elizabeth's hand closed over his, and he smiled. "You got what you were after in the end."

Elizabeth's lips twitched ever so slightly. "I suppose I did."

Jack flipped over onto his stomach, peering down into her face. "Was it everything you expected?"

Elizabeth's eyes finally opened, and she schooled her features into a mask of boredom. "Not quite." She struggled valiantly to keep a straight face, but the sight of Jack's indignant expression induced a fit of hysterical laughter. The more he glowered at her, the more she was helplessly overcome by giggles, unable to speak.

"I fail to see what's so funny," he snapped with a petulant toss of his head.

"Oh, Jack," Elizabeth gasped, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, "I was only teasing." Before she had a chance to react, Jack was straddling her, gripping her wrists and pinning them to the mattress.

"Let's get something straight, shall we?" he said, his voice deadly calm, a hint of menace in his eyes. "Contrary to what you may think, my patience is not unlimited, and I will _not _tolerate any more teasing from you. Do I make myself clear?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened, mouth gaping in surprise. "But – "

"Otherwise," Jack continued, his eyes boring into hers, "I will be forced to you punish you _severely_." His features relaxed suddenly, and he released her, grinning lasciviously. "But believe me, darling, it won't be anything you wouldn't enjoy."

Elizabeth stared at him, a puzzled frown on her face, the fact that he had tricked her taking a moment to penetrate her brain. "You – "

Jack preened. "Thought I was serious, didn't you?"

"Bastard!" Elizabeth swore, pummeling him with her fists.

Jack laughed, fending her off easily. "Seemed only fair, love, seeing as how you've been leading me around by the nose for the past few days."

Elizabeth crossed her arms and sighed. "I said I was sorry."

"So you did." Jack regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, your little charade was completely unnecessary."

"How's that?"

"Well, if this was what you wanted" – Jack insinuated a hand between her thighs, rubbing his thumb against her, grinning as desire flared in her eyes once more – "All you had to do was ask."

Elizabeth grasped his shoulders and pushed, rolling over until she was on top of him. He caught the flash of her teeth, and then she was sinking down upon him, a string of unintelligible curses passing his lips in no more than a hoarse whisper. She leaned forward until her lips were almost touching his. "Now, where would the fun be in that?"

Elizabeth squirmed deliciously, and Jack groaned, his hands coming up to grip her hips. "Fun?" he muttered. "I don't recall there being any fun in it for me."

Elizabeth laughed breathlessly. "I don't hear you complaining now."

"Truer words were never spoken." Jack closed his eyes, his breathing labored. "Can we come to an accord of some sort?"

Elizabeth's muscles clenched, and Jack gritted his teeth. "Name your terms, Captain Sparrow."

"No more games," he rasped. "None of this dodgy, double-dealing nonsense." He paused, considering. "At least, not between us," he amended. "We are pirates, after all."

Elizabeth's movements stilled, and Jack's eyes popped open. A shaft of moonlight had pierced the small window above her head, bathing her in an otherworldly glow, and Jack couldn't help but smile at the enchanting vision she presented. "What say you to that, Miss Swann?" he whispered.

Elizabeth gazed down at him with a mixture of fondness and amusement. "Agreed," she said, as her lips descended upon his.


End file.
